Man of Eezo
by gwmclintock9
Summary: Shepard isn't the only one who recognizes the problem of the Collectors. Another man steps up, dealing with his own crisis of identity as he struggles to find answers no one else seems to have. Answers as to why he can do things no man or alien ever could do and survive things others would perish experiencing. A man capable of extraordinary feats. A super man. AU ME/DC comics
1. Chapter One

**A/N: **This story combines two separate, but potentially entwined ideas. Mass Effect and Superman. But the story of superman is not necessarily the same to everyone. This Superman is not quite the same one we expect from comics, nor is he completely weakened by the lack of sunlight or Earth's atmosphere (those these do apply). The intent was never to create a system where one character completely changes the outcome. Rather, I've introduced a ripple effect that begins well before the introduction of Clark Kent.

This is the culmination of that ripple.

**Chapter One: **

Heading to Horizon to escape from Freedom's Progress had been fortuitous, for the moment at least. A week after he left, something had abducted the entire colony, every last man, woman, and child. All humans vanished, though being a human colony and a fairly new one, this wasn't a huge surprise; what had been was the lack of talk about it. Only reason he knew was the rumors he heard while flying out here. Though, he avoided the news as best as he could. There were enough problems in the verse, no reason to stress over things he had no say in.

Clark avoided trouble like the plague. He never sought recognition or fame, even avoiding most formal establishments in an effort to fly just a little bit more underneath the radar. With the galaxy filled with different types of aliens, such as turians, krogan, and asari, he should have felt accepted, even safe to a degree. But his father taught him that the galaxy wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready for them. His father was right.

The other aliens weren't like him. Clark looked human, sounded human, but he wasn't human. Only he and his parents knew. As a boy, his head felt like it was on fire all of the time as his eyes and ears took in too much information. By the time he graduated from a university, he had managed to account and control for the increased perception, even to the point of seeing through things. But he wasn't human. He didn't know what he was. All he knew was what his parents taught him, and they loved him.

So he planet-hopped, flying job to job, working until something happened, until he had to do something to save others. He couldn't help it, but even then, if he stayed too long, people began to give him looks. It's the reason why he left Freedom's Progress: something happened and he had to get involved.

On Freedom's Progress, a fire broke out in one of the labs. He had been working in constructing living quarters nearly a mile away, and volunteered to help fight the fire. A little girl went to work with her father and wandered off, which he probably would have too. But then the fire hit, and they couldn't get to her. No one could.

Except for him.

Bending bars and metal like they were twigs to reach her, he stepped through the flames and smoke. His clothes caught on fire, the heat should be unbearable, the air un-breathable, the terrain unmovable. It would have been for anyone else.

Except for him.

Clark waded in carefully, his eyes burning through the chemicals and smoke, but he concentrating on getting to the girl as quickly as possible. The heat tickled, pulsating and warm against his skin. Walls bent out of the way, his hands crushing the metal underneath his grip. Pushing through what little pain he felt from the heat and the burning metal, charging through the flame and the smoke, he kept moving. The girl's cries screeched through to him, past the screams for help and of fear by the colonists.

Once he reached her, Clark gave her a reassuring smile. Hands which tore through metal only moments before gently lifted the girl into his arms. Holding her head against his neck, he carried her out of there, swiftly stepping between falling beams and burning walls. Footsteps marked the passing of millisecond – if not shorter - as he moved her toward safety. Once free from the burning lab, he turned back staring at the fire. It flared up, twisting in the night. He walked out, aching and feverish, but relatively unharmed.

With the girl still in his arms, he began to move toward her family, at a much more sedate pace. His steps measured, his gait sure, but hurried. Hiding taught him to present an image people wanted to see, something that they could handle. Even with biotics and engineers, walking through fire with only minor burns, untouched would have him studied beyond care or civility.

The galaxy just wasn't ready.

Which lead him here, to Horizon. Another border planet, building itself up, though this time, he had the misfortune to arrive just as the Alliance decided to make kind with the Terminus system colonies.

"Well, look at you." Clark nearly dropped his omni-tool at the voice. He turned to glance at the Alliance's representative, Operations Chief Williams. "Didn't know they grew them like you out here." He had been working on securing walls of a living unit, hoping to have it finished within the next day or so. It was not labor intensive, and the omni-tool requirements were low (never really had the time or money to play around with one after graduating). Essentially, low-skill, low-pay. Perfect when you are trying to stay hidden.

"Don't," Clark said. "I'm from Earth, grew up on a farm." He tried to give her an easy smile, but he always felt uncomfortable about the attention people gave him. His finished adjusting the omni-tool, letting it work its way through the calculations before grabbing the other tools. Despite technology advancing to faster-than-light travel, sometimes a hammer got the work done just as well.

"What made you want to come out here?" Williams asked. He shrugged his shoulders. Why did people always ask some many questions? Not just humans, but asari, turian, hell even the quarians asked questions about him. At least the krogan were willing to let him be, but they rarely worked in the same areas as he did.

"Just felt like it." Williams' glare intensified at the non-answer.

"What's your name?" Clark held back a sigh, reminding himself she was just doing her job.

"Clark." He turns back to his work, hoping to end this conversation.

"That your first name? Or last?" With a sigh, he set the hammer down.

"Ma'am, I understand your concern, and if you have any more questions, please direct them to the foreman. Or ask me when I'm off. But I need to get back to work." He kept reminding himself that she was just doing her job. Something most others around the colony did not enjoy. No one seemed to want the Alliance out here (part of the reason he picked this place) but with rumors of colonies disappearing and geth, the Alliance wanted to keep everyone safe. Something he could relate to.

"You'll talk when you're done?" She hesitated, as if trying to decide what to do next.

"Yes, of course," he gave what he hoped was a comforting smile. He couldn't offer her much, and it was unlikely that anyone could connect all of the pieces. Or at least, not right away.

"Okay," Williams nodded, taking a step back. "What time are you done?"

"1700 hours, Earth standard."

"I'll meet you at the mess around half an hour later?" Williams didn't want for a response, leaving Clark to wonder what the hell was going on. Normally, when people were asking questions about himself, about who he was, they were demanding answer, immediately. Williams demanded them too, but seemed willing to wait. Her patience surprised him, as she didn't seem like the type to wait. She was more of the take charge type, leading men and women into battle.

Clark nearly dropped the hammer as a realization him: She did take charge. She just asked him out on a date. Glancing over his shoulders, he felt a genuine smile rise up. Well, maybe not a date, but it had the potential to be one. It had been a long time since anyone had even bothered to get to know him, and even with weighing the potential harm, maybe talking with someone for fun would be worth it. Besides, there really was nothing in his history - unless people really dug all the way back - to find.

Getting back to work, Clark forgot about the hammer and began to press the bolts in with his thumb. No one was around to notice and definitely quicker in regards to the outcome. At the very least, it would let him finish the job before the bugs finished him. Flicking one away, he settled in. Even with all his enhanced senses, he still missed things.

**I0I**

_Two years since you had lost Shepard. _Ashley thought. _Two years since he died. _Thoughts of her lover, the man who saved her on Virmire, who chose her over Kaiden Alenko, he held her in the dark as they sped toward Illos, consumed her on a daily basis. It was only through a year and a half of therapy, which was still on-going, that she managed to drag herself out of the hole she fell when Shepard left.

One thing her therapist kept reminding her was that Shepard wouldn't want her to stop living her life. She never intended to fall for another guy, to even look at another man (at least until she saw the tall drink of water working construction), but she could keep serving. It was why she traveled to Horizon in the first place.

The Alliance needed her out here, so she went. She knew the rumors, and read the reports of the attacks on Freedom's Progress. She wasn't sure what to believe, but she had to try and make the colonies at least a little safer. Even if the colonies themselves didn't necessarily want the help. They never forced anything on the colonies, or at least, that was what her commanding officers told her.

Out in the Terminus systems, human colonies formed to get away from the Alliance. They didn't want the help and believed that they didn't need it. Most colonies wouldn't turn away defensive systems though, as the raiders and pirates loved prime targets. Alliance wasn't looking for anything in return (right now, Ashley always added under her breath). They just wanted people to be safe.

If that meant the Alliance had an opportunity to be pro-active against the Collectors, then so be it. All for the betterment of the human race.

Now, they just had to get the damn things working.

"Lilith," Ashley called out. The older woman was in charge of the colony, temporarily the leader until they could the entire thing settled. For the most part, it seemed like she would remain in the role once building finished.

"Hey, we've got a bit of a problem." Ashley matched Lilith, walking besides the other woman.

"Still can't calibrate the targeting matrix?" She held back her blush at the question. Her original intent for the morning had been to work on that problem, but Clark distracted her enough to only check in. She really did need to know the background of her colonists, if at least to ensure that no one from Cereberus was here. Clark didn't seem the type, but you never know. She had to be sure. So what if it was over a drink or two?

"Those defense towers are useless if we don't figure it out." Ashley said, moving out of the way of another colonist walking toward them. What good did good will do if towers didn't work? Defense meant nothing without targeting: Give her two good eyes and a scope she'd get the job done. Not everyone was her, and she knew the towers needed the system in order to operate.

She missed the days when she was a ground soldier, a grunt, running from mission to mission. Now, here she was, playing diplomat with a group that barely tolerated her presence it seemed. Most of them at least. Clark appeared to be opening to her, which was progress in it of itself. The man barely said hello to her a week before. Her sisters would be proud of her stubbornness for that one.

"Sorry, Chief. Getting our comm system back online takes priority." Lilith offered, knowing it wasn't much. Communication systems were important, almost more. Even if the towers worked, without the system working properly, no signal could be sent for assistance or vengeance.

"Yeah. Okay. Surprised people haven't tried to blame that one on me too." It was a common thing to hear around the colony. Pipe burst? Alliance's fault. Wife left you? Alliance's fault. She had a dozen complainants filed against the first day she was here. None were substantiated of course, but still, it was the principle. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong because of the Alliance. Why did they even bother sometimes?

"People out here don't trust the Alliance. It's nothing personal." Ashley shrugged her shoulders. Personal her ass. Of course it was. Not only was she Alliance, but a woman, and a Williams. Didn't matter what others saw, that was what it came down to. _Well… almost everyone._ She thought as she pictured Clark perched up there, constructing something. Her thoughts dispersed as everyone around her stopped move, turning to stare as _something_ came into view.

"What is that?" A colonist asked. She had no idea. Clouds filled with lightning of something peeked out of them, the crackle adding to the ominous sensation growing in the pit of her stomach. With practice ease, she reached for her assault rifle. Before it even finished unfurling, she had the scope up, peering toward the ship. Not Alliance, not alien…not friendly.

The sky grew a darker hue as what seemed like thousands of thousands of bugs emerged from the cloud. Scream's filled the air, and Ashley felt her training kick in.

"Get everyone to the safe houses." She waved back at Lilith, trying to get her, the leader to cooperate. If she listened, then others would be more likely to as well. "I'll cover you. Run." Lilith nodded, before turning toward the safe house. Ashley futilely let out a burst toward the cloud. Screams carried toward them, and she watched people freeze. "Hurry."

"Ahhh." As she turned, she watched a bug fly off of Lilith. The older woman continued to move forward and scream, before seeming to freeze. Ashley tried to clench her own terror as she watched Lilith's eyes try to widen in fear. The bugs grew closer to her and Ashley tried to hold her breath to prevent a scream.

As she blinked her eyes, trying to block out the moment the bugs touched her, she felt something rush into her. Window rushed out of her just as quickly as it rushed around her.

"Ugh," grunted Ashley. Somehow, she had changed from standing to now lying on the floor. A smooth, even floor in an environment controlled room. They were in the safe house, though she wasn't sure how safe it was. Few people had managed to make it, though she wondered how she got there herself.

"One second," said a blur before disappearing in a charge of air. It appeared momentarily before disappearing again…and again… and again. The blur repeated this several times, with the room filling up with both moving and frozen people.

The blur finally stopped moving, giving her a change to get a good look at the owner of the voice. "Clark?"

"So, I bet you have questions." He offered a sheepish grin. It lasted a moment, but the boyish charm he exuded coupled with his sheer size left her feeling a little weak in her knees. He was a man who had to step in and do the right thing. The same thing that drew her to Shepard drew her to him.

Before she had a chance to even ask questions, Clark's head whipped toward the door. His gaze was long and hard, glaring at it or maybe even what was behind it? "I'm going to try to get to the defense tower controls."

"H-h-how do you know about that?" Ashley managed to get out. He was just a civilian, right? How would he know what to? How the hell did he get them here? She struggled to her feet, but Clark's firm hand gave her the leverage to pull herself up. For some reason, letting her stand on her own, despite saving her, only added to his charm.

"I'd like to explain," Clark glanced at the door again, inching closer to it, "I really would, but, well, I can help out there. Just keep everyone here." He motioned with his hands, trying to placate her.

"Hey, wait!" Ashley cried out, only to be met with a rush of air. Again. "He's going to get himself killed." She looked over at the console, where people were huddled. Damn the comm systems, they needed the defense towers now.

**Disclaimer:**  
This story is cross-published on / under the account name gwmclintock88.

Superman and related information is owned by Warner Bros, published by DC Comics, and created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster.  
Mass Effect and related information is published by Electronic Arts, and created by Bioware.

**A/N: **The combination of ideas and the implementation of information currently are mine. As of right now, the alternative universe I've created here for both is not open to other writers, but it is open to artists.

For those wondering why is is not placed in the cross-over category, I have chosen to only post this under Mass Effect because the story considers the implications of the addition of DC characters to the ME universe. This is not a cross-over in the traditional sense, but rather a fusion. Thus, I've chosen to only post it here, rather than in the cross-over category. If you have issues with this, please either leave me a PM or a comment.

Comments and criticism are welcome.

Good night and good luck.


	2. Chapter Two: Horizon Mission

**Chapter 2: Horizon Mission**

"Garrus, find somewhere high," Shepard pointed to the mountains and hills that seemed scattered around the colony. "We'll head out on foot. I want radio contact at all times Zaeed, take rear and I'll take the lead. Miranda, keep an open scan up. Let's move out people." They moved out from the LZ, heading to where they hoped the defense tower was. Even if the system was buggy or not working, remotely running it through the Normandy, and EDI, would allow them to activate system.

The Illusive Man's curt explanation and demand for their presence at Horizon did not render his decision to help pointless. Shepard wanted to hate that man with every fiber of his body, but the bastard still wanted to save humanity from the Reapers. For now, they were on the same side, and he could only hope that meant the Cerberus members of his crew were on his side as well.

Zaeed Massani was a hired gun, damn good enough to have been a commanding office if he was a member of the Alliance, or even cared to be anything than a cannon fodder. He carried scares that could have been older than the Spectre, but both spent time reminiscing about past battles and scraps. Somehow, being the survivor of Akuze only seemed to raise Zaeed's view of Shepard. Not because of the glory but because he was a survivor, like the older man. Had he been a younger man, just out of basic, he'd likely be following the man on his mission to kill the bastard that left him for dead. Instead, he convinced Zaeed to be the better man, to let it go, for now, and concentrate on the mission at hand.

Garrus Vakarian stood tall and ready as ever. The turian served with Shepard in the run against Sarian and Sovreign. Coming out victorious against those odds wasn't easy, and now, Shepard needed all of the help he could get. Having a friend in the corner while in the den of wolves increased his odds, though with this mission there wasn't much that wouldn't hurt. One of the best shots he has ever seen, damn good with an omni-tool too. Only issue the turian had now was the traitor who killed his squad. Part of Shepard worried for the day when Garrus would have to make the choice; mostly, he wanted to put two bullets in the guy himself, but then he remembered he was the good guy in this story.

Finally, Miranda Lawson, the sentinel on "loan" from Cerberus. On the books, she was his XO, but sometimes, he felt like she was more his babysitter than anything else. She reported everything back to the Illusive Man as if he were a child who couldn't tie his own shoes without parental approval. She showed signs of humanity at times, behind the cool exterior of perfection. There was something that bothered him about Miranda, something she wasn't saying or sharing.

Everyone had their reasons for this mission. Zaeed's was money. Garrus's loyalty and belief in the cause. Miranda's reasons weren't as transparent, and with an organization like Cerberus, he couldn't' trust her, not yet.

_Head in the game John. Head in the game. _"Mordin, you sure these armor upgrades are going to protect us from the seeker swarms?" Shepard said into his comm, prepping his Eviscerator, an illegal weapon too good to pass up, with disrupter ammo. The shotgun fired serrated metal wedges, instead of chips or pellets, allowing for a tighter spread and longer ranger. The design however, was illegal, which may limited supply. The Illusive Man managed to get a few and Shepard claimed one for himself, finding the weapon He wasn't sure what to expect against the Collectors, and the extra damage would be worth it. His pistol would be a last resort, and his omni-tool already had the freeze program loaded up, ready to be deployed.

"Certainty impossible. But, in limited numbers, should confuse detection. Make you invisible to swarms. In theory," Mordin responded. The salarian was the smartest person Shepard new, so the response did not fill him with much confidence. Found working in a clinic on Omega, Mordin talked fast, worked faster, and thought faster than that. It amazing Shepard how quickly the man processed information and then would go still, completely and utterly still. He asked Mordin about it once, and the salarian simply said he was taking a moment of zen. Not sure what he meant by that, but the guy knew his science.

"In theory?" Zaeed asked, looking over from checking his gear. "That sounds promising."

"No time to worry about it now," Shepard said. "Keep the comm open. Joker, see if you can find any survivors or track any feeds. Let's hope we're not too late."

Moving quickly, they hustled down the hill, moving between several living units before coming to an opening. At the moment, it was deserted, but the seeker swarms flitted about the area. "Shepard!" He glanced over his shoulder at Miranda, her omni-tool glowing orange. "We've got incoming!"

Although obvious, her warning was enough time to duck behind a crate. Zaeed and Miranda followed suit as several Collectors _flew_ in from somewhere. This was a first for him. "Zaeed! Take them out!" The merc threw a grenade at a group as Shepard tapped the tactical cloak program. As the group burst intoflames, he watched Miranda fire off a warp field toward the survivors.

Immediately, the cloak projected the background onto the foreground, rendering him effectively invisible to natural eyes. He only hoped that the Collectors' eyes worked off a similar system. Checking his clip, Shepard turned and rushed out of cover.

Miranda lay down cover fire for Zaeed to move forward before following suit herself. Shepard charged ahead, prepping the freeze program as he rounded a crate where several Collectors took cover. Tapping the program, he held out his right arm letting the super-cooled air burst forth in a cone, flash-freezing the air. The program hit several Collectors, slowing their movements enough to reduce the threat or even literally freezing them where they stood. Two pumps of his shotgun and they shattered.

"On your left," said Zaeed. Something splattered behind him, covering his back.

"Got it," Miranda said. He looked back at her, lowering her pistol and nodded before diving back into the fray, tactical cloak engaged.

Despite using the cloak, several shots hit is shield, ricocheting off as he stumbled back behind cover. Take a moment to breath, he holstered his shotgun and grabbed the Carnifex, a pistol he picked up on Omega. It too had been loaded with disrupter ammo. Shepard moved out of cover slightly, firing the pistol several times. The collector he aimed at shuddered with each hit before crumpling into electric particles. The heat clip sailed past him as he began to look for his next target.

Miranda had fired several more warps at the barriers of the collectors, leaving most of them defenseless against the onslaught of bullets Zaeed rained down upon them. Shepard took advantage of the chaos to charge forward again, avoiding friendly fire as best as he could. The tactical cloak slipped into place as he turned a corner of a building.

Several collectors stood there, trying to organize some defense. He pumped the shotgun, empting his heat clip, before the collectors saw him. "Clear over here," he said into his comm. Reloading, he waited for a response from anyone, determining if he needed to load another program into his overheating omni-tool.

Despite the versatility of the devises, too many programs too quickly reduced its functions. Same with biotics. Both were limited in what they could and couldn't do, forcing them to adapt to situations just like the rest of the world. He had met a few like Jack who seemed to by-pass most of the safety features with no ill effect, but they were dangerous to everyone around them. Hell, Kaiden scared him at times and the man was an L2.

"All clear," Miranda's voice came over the comm.

"Head over to my position," Shepard said. "Check for any survivors on the way, but don't worry about being thorough."

"Yes Commander," Miranda said. Zaeed just grunted, but Shepard figured the man would follow through with the order.

Taking the moment to collect himself, he reloaded his Eviscerator. Prior to his rebirth, his training had been similar to Garrus. Fire from afar and fire fast. Now, he used the cloaking program to rush in where devils fear to tread, not unlike vanguards. His blood rushed through his veins, pounding with every footstep. He felt the pounding still in his ears and against his chest. He felt it echoing, pulsating as he charged forward. More importantly, he felt alive.

Shepard never was a reckless soldier. He followed protocol and orders to the letter, only deviating when those who served underneath him were in danger. It was those deviations that save his ass on Akuze. He knew when to hang back and he knew when to go guns blazing in. Self-preservation kept him alive long enough to winnow down the enemy and keep his soldiers alive. But on Akuze, he needed to focus everything on staying alive himself.

Those instincts were still there, but now, Shepard felt them deadened. He could hear himself screaming to stay back, to take cover, but a larger part of him ignored that voice. Now, he still was effective, still instinctively wanted to live, but he couldn't seem to stop running in head first, guns blazing. His mind vaguely kept track of where everyone was, calculating distances, vectors, and angles for shots. Before his rebirth, it was second nature to that first and then go in to deal with the situation, whatever it may have been. Now, he shot first, shot again, and when everyone was dead, maybe ask a few questions. Was this the man he was now? Not careless, but reckless?

"Shepard, you better get over here," Zaeed said. Knocking the thoughts from his head, Shepard holstered his weapon, clipping it to his armor as he headed off to Zaeed. The mercenary stood over the body of something that should have been impossible. Something he had not seen in nearly two years.

"Is that…?" Miranda managed to get out before he could.

"A husk," Shepard said. The mechanical body lay dead, or deadish, on the ground with its arms and legs limp in impossible positions. Moreover, it did not appear to be placed or dropped, but rather simply there, like it had come with the collectors.

Husks were too dangerous on their own, for any trained soldier. They rambled forward, stumbling like a zombie on speed with arms waving as they tried to reach you. For the most part, you always had enough time to take them out if you were even a half-way decent shot. Hell, Kaiden could barely operate his pistol at times and the soldier had easily destroyed the few attacking him back on Eden Prime. The only time you ever needed to be concerned about husks was when groups of them rushed at you. Like zombie flicks of old, too many and you get overwhelmed. It happened back on Eden Prime and Feros, but here, with only one, no one likely was injured by the damn thing.

"What the hell is a husk doing here?" Zaeed said. He poked the thing with his assault rifle before taking a step back. Shepard smirked at the movement, knowing full well how dangerous they could be.

"Get a scan of it, send it up to Mordin," Miranda nodded, her omni-tool flaring as she knelt to begin her work. "I'm not sure, but there may be a correlation between the collectors and the husks. Especially since there are no dragon's teeth here."

"Dragon's teeth? What the hell are those?" Zaeed said.

"They were what transformed dead bodies on Eden Prime into husks, presumably," Miranda said. She had not looked up from her work, continuing on scanning the body for any information.

"Shepard, we've got a group heading your way. Six, wait" Garrus said. The report of a shot echoed through the compound, "five heading toward you from the north."

"Roger," Shepard said. "We'll have time to worry about this later, right now, let's keep moving."

They rounded the corner, already firing at the squad of Collectors. Caught by surprise, they easily fell in a barrage of metal, fire, and mass fields. No sooner were those down did another group pop up behind them.

Diving for cover, Shepard prepped his shotgun. His heart began to pound in his chest, thundering over the bullets and mayhem. This was what had been missing. The calming thunder of battle, that push towards the edge and the rush of adrenaline he faced with each step. He sent out a quick incendiary program, igniting a collector in flames before Miranda's warp took it down. His shotgun took out one approaching before Zaeed decimated a group standing too close together with his own flames.

"Fourteen for me," he said, laughing as he fired off his assault rifle.

"Fifteen," Garrus chimed as a collector fell from a compound roof. Shepard smirked as he incinerated another collector.

"Do you boys think you can get your head back in the fight?" Miranda said. He shared a look with Zaeed before shaking his head and chuckling.

Soldiers found ways to relax in ways that most civilians would not understand. As an old soldier, Zaeed seemed to revel in the violence, in the fight. He did not go out of his way to start a fight – Lord knows how they managed that – but he would finish anything against him. The man fought with fury belying his age. Raging against the dying of the light, he would not go quickly.

The squad moved forward, continuing to scan and take out stragglers. Despite the steady progress toward the defensive systems, they had yet to find any sign of survivors. Were they too late? The collectors appeared to be fast and efficient, striking quickly without a mess or fuss. Whatever system they used on top of the swarms highlighted their skills and expertise in this arena.

"Dammit," Shepard whispered as he rounded a corner.

A colonist stood in an awkward pose, his hands raised to protect his face as his body twisted away as if being chased. One leg held the weight of his body, the other caught between protecting himself and running. His face contorted in panic and his eyes were filled with fear. This had to be what the swarm did to people. They saw it on Freedom's Progress, but here, in person, it was worse. Shepard watched the man's eyes follow them the squad moved closer. People were trapped, alive and unable to scream or do anything.

His hand began to tremble, and he quickly but quietly holstered his weapon. The air became thicker as he tried to calm himself back down. The world blackened at the edges a bit, but he held it together. A good soldier to the end, he held down his side of the bargain.

"Find something?" Garrus asked over the comm. Shepard nodded, before realizing the man probably couldn't see them.

"We've got a colonist." He tried to keep his voice steady as the others came up behind him. Miranda walked past him, without noticing, but Zaeed, the man just stopped in front of him for a moment.

"Mordin may be able to come up with an antidote or something," Miranda said. Repeating the process she conducted with the husk, she began to scan the man.

"Damn scientists," Zaeed muttered. Shepard couldn't' help the smirk. The comment hadn't been directed at Mordin, but rather at Miranda. The woman who essentially resurrected him seemed to barely understand him now that he was awake. "We need to keep moving."

"If we don't take this right now, then we lose an opportunity to develop something to counteract it later. At the very least, it'll help us here," Miranda said. She didn't look up from her work, continuing to transmit the data to the Normandy.

"Does have a point," Shepard said. He smiled at the glare from Zaeed before nodding his thanks.

"Bloody things going to get us killed." Zaeed began to move forward, his assault rifle up and scanning for incoming enemies. The man was never one to sit still for too long. He could only stay on the Normandy so long before he had to fight something. Before Grunt, that usually meant Shepard, but now, he and Grunt seemed to be willing to duke it out in the cargo hold. Garrus went from time to time, when he wasn't calibrating the guns, while Jack seemed to enjoy the violence a little too much. Jacob watched but never fought, choosing to sit on the sidelines with whoever had next.

The only one who didn't join in on the odd bonding exercise was Miranda. It was part of the reason he wanted to see her in combat more. He knew what everyone was capable of, except for her. Again, she only showed enough for her to get an edge, but never enough for anyone to connect with her.

"We've got movement up ahead." Garrus said, interrupting his thoughts. "Think it's at the defense tower, but I can't be sure." Something flittering ahead caught his eye. Movement where moments before there was none. Another group of collectors was rushing them. Bunkering down, he ready his shotgun and tactical cloak.

"What can you tell?" Shepard asked, motioning for Zaeed. The man took a defensive position ahead of them. Miranda stood, finishing her scan. Readying her pistol, she moved forward herself.

"Don't know, let me go take a look."

"Negative, I need you here." Shepard engaged the cloak before turning and rushing into the fray.

"Saving your ass again," Garrus said. Shepard felt the bullet rush past him as a collector fell just in front of him. He fired his shotgun once, twice, three times, taking down two more. Diving behind a crate, he coordinated with Miranda to take out collector cloaked in a barrier. The beast staggered backward under the force and several shots from her pistol took it down.

"Assuming control." Shepard peaked around his crate to watch a collector rise off the ground. Biotic fields moved around it as it began to burst with energy. The sharp pain of a particle rifle pushed him back under cover.

"Miranda, Zaeed, concentrate on him!" Shepard yelled over the flurry of gunfire and energy.

Warping gravitons and grenades danced in the air momentarily as both hit the ascended collector. They had taken whole groups out with that move, bursting them into crippling flames.

The collector barely even stumbled as it kept firing forward. Zaeed ran forward, taking out a collector just to his left before ducking the same crate Shepard was hiding behind. Miranda stood back, a hail of bullets preventing her from moving forward.

"Garrus, any time now," Shepard said. There was silence over the comm for a moment before the sound of something swiftly passing through something rigid into something soft filled the air.

"Kid's a damn good shot," Zaeed said. Shepard nodded, popping up to fire off several rounds with his pistol before dropping down again. He managed to hit a few of them, but not enough to drop another one.

The glowing collector kept moving forward as more collectors flew into the area. They concentrated their fire on the crates, attempting to break them apart and force the squad into the open. It was working too. Shepard felt the pressure mounting as he counted his clips. Several particle rifles fired at him as he scrolled through omni-tool, preparing his tactic cloak.

"I'm almost out." Miranda said over the comm.

"Okay, prepare another Warp and shove it up that collector's ass." He nodded at Zaeed. "Follow it up with a grenade. If that doesn't do it, fill it with lead."

They followed his order as the cloak covered him. His blood rushed, his feet pounded as he charged forward to a group of collectors. Flash-freezing the air, he fired off several disruptor rounds, killing them quickly. Shots began to ring around him and particle rifles pulsated evenly against his shield. The heat of the beam nearly pushed him back behind a crate before he could get his tactical cloak up. He moved as quickly as he could, the beam passing by him easily.

"Dammit Shepard, take it easy." Garrus said. A shot took down the assassin with the particle rifle.

Miranda's warp did the job, effectively reducing the barrier on the glowing collector to nothing. In waves of purple and light, the collector stumbled backward. Before it even had a chance to collect itself, Zaeed had bombarded it with set of grenades, lighting it up in even more in reds and oranges. Strangled screams drowned out the gunfire and everything stopped as they watched the collector dissolve into nothingness.

Shepard barely had time to respond as his shield dropped. It was his turn to stumble backward as the bullets stopped against his armor. He felt the pressure of each shot, of each punch to the gut. If his heart pounded in his head earlier, now he felt the pain of each thud and each step. Irrelevant images flashed against his mind. Raising his gun to fire one last time, one last hurrah of his failed suicide attempt that never really started, he never got a chance to fire it. Something large and painful rushed into him.

"Ugh." Shepard grunted and forced his eyes open.

"We're going to have a talk after this Shepard," Zaeed said. He applied a medi-gel to the commander, letting the man recover his breath.

"Sure, no problem," Shepard said. He took the shotgun Zaeed held out.

"Enemies' down." Miranda's voice came in through the comm. Shepard couldn't help breathe a sigh of relief.

This had been the first time he had faced that elephant again. The rush was amazing as it always was, but in those final moments the flashes gave him a sense of peace. He saw his life before the Normandy SR-1 was destroyed, before he was reborn in this life that wasn't really his own. He saw the moments that gave that life meaning, and he wished that he could still have those moments. All he had left was the rush of battle.

"Shepard, you okay?" Of course Garrus saw it.

"Yeah, Zaeed pulled my ass out of the fire." Miranda came up to them, nearly glaring at him. "Don't worry, the merc saved the merchandise."

"Shepard, that –"

"The defense tower appears to be ready to be activated," EDI said, interrupting anything Miranda may have offered on the subject of his almost untimely demise.

"Sir, we should start scanning for survivors," Miranda said. Both of the men stared at her for a moment, surprised at her suggestion. Typically, she had only been about the mission. This was the first time she spoke out about something beyond the parameters the Illusive Man set for them. Unfazed by their response, she continued: "If they managed to get the towers working, then others are likely still alive and active." Zaeed shrugged, choosing to keep his opinion to himself for once.

"She's right," Shepard said. "The towers weren't active before, and now, we have an opportunity to take that ship out." Miranda simply nodded, reloading her clip from several the collectors had left behind. Zaeed followed her, picking several up himself before depositing them in caches in his armor.

"Will do Commander," Joker said. Before Shepard even had a chance to order them to start bypassing the door, Garrus chimed in again.

"Shepard, that commotion I told you about up ahead? It's getting worse," Garrus said.

"We're tracking it as well, Commander," EDI said. "It appears to be centered on a remote activation array for the towers."

"Alright, we're heading there right now. Let's hope its friendlies at the site," Shepard said. Slamming his hand against the door, the program to bypass began without a word. His omni-tool whirled and buzzed. The program was designed to do the work which two years ago he had to do by hand through omni-gel. Suddenly waking up in the future wasn't completely a waste if it meant no more shocks to the system because he messed up the damn codes. This way seemed like cheating, but he could live with it.

"Garrus, move ahead, but stay within comm range. Do not engage anyone until we get there." The door opened to a garage, filled with crates and cargo. Shepard entered first, with Zaeed and Miranda following quickly. A transport sat off to the side with tools scattered around the floor. Boxes overturned and contains flung toward the exit. Once completely inside, the door slammed shut, pressurized seals engaging with a hiss.

"Figured we find someone here, with those seals," Zaeed said. Something fell to the ground, clattering against the metal floor.

"Company," Shepard said. They spun toward the source of the noise, their weapons trained to fire at will. "Get out here. Now!" A man peaked out from behind one of the crates, staring at them. Lowering his weapon, Shepard took a step back. No use in frightening civilizans anymore than he had to. At least for the moment. The man stepped out from behind the crate, stumbling slightly and shaking with fear. He watched their guns, watching them before moving further into the open.

"You're…you're human. What are you doing here? You'll lead them right here." The man said.

"Calm down." Shepard said. "If they wanted in here, you'd be dead or taken already." He holstered his weapon, signaling for his squadmates to do the same. "It's hard to hide from the Collectors."

"Those things are Collectors? You mean… they're real? I thought they were just made up. You know…propaganda. To keep us in Alliance Space." The man struggled to talk. Shepard felt for him. Watching your colony get attacked and finding yourself as the only survivor, the only person to get out it alive was devastating. He gave the man his moment, letting he try to recover. "No! They got Lilith. I saw her go down. They got near everyone."

"Who are you? What's your name?" Shepard asked. The man shook his head, and turned toward them, as if finally noticing the trained men and woman in the room.

"Name's Delan. Head mechanic. I came down to check on the main grid after we lost our comm signals." He paused, running his hand over his face. T"hen I heard screaming." The man waved his hand around. He paced frantically, as if trying to calm himself down. "I looked outside and there was swarms of bugs. Everyone they touched just froze. Standing there.

"Damn it – it's the Alliance's fault." Shepard nearly groaned at the tangent. The Alliance being blamed for something outside of their control? Real shocker. "They stationed that Chief Williams here and built those defense towers. It made us a target!" _Chief Williams was here? _Shepard felt his heart stop at the thought. He hadn't even managed to get back to the Citadel and purposely avoided Alliance space since his rebirth. He refused to let himself ask any Cerberus member about what the Allaince had been up to. Nothing mattered except the mission. It was the only way he could handle this new life…this new galaxy. Everything else was distracting until he could get his head above water long enough to breath. Now certainly wasn't the time to breathe though. He still had a job to finish here. He'd worry about Ash when he had a chance to come up for air.

"Someone figured it out already, and we're heading there to see if we can either help or get it started if they failed," Shepard said. Odds were in his favor that the force ahead of them was working with them, at least for the moment. It could be the Alliance. If it was, how could Cerberus say the Alliance wasn't working toward a solution if there was a force that could take on the Collectors like they were? No matter what happens, new questions were going to be asked today. Hopefully, some of those answers would let him hang onto his old life for a little bit longer.

"Someone else made it out alive?" Delan asked. "How? Those things…the Collectors came out of nowhere." Shepard shook his head, trying to figure out how this man could be that stupid or that naïve. Probably some combination of the two.

"Well, apparently not everyone is a coward like you," Zaeed snapped. The man had no use for cowards. Invalids and children, he could handle it seemed. But cowards? It was the old soldier in Zaeed. Shepard felt the same to a degree, but he had never seen the merc like this before.

"What am I supposed to do? I'm just a mechanic."

"You could have grabbed some of them, done something," said Zaeed. He walked forward, further intimidating the guy. Miranda looked over at Shepard, silently asking him to stop Zaeed.

"A worse fate than what you have planned for him is knowing he could have save them, if he just stood up," Shepard said. "So go run and hide again, we'll take it from here."

"Yeah…yeah…" Delan said. His voice paused and dropped off as he shuffled back to his hiding spot.

"You certainly know how to hit the weakspots," Zaeed said.

"Was that necessary?" Miranda asked, glaring at him. It was the second time her humanity showed, surprising him again. "He's a civilian."

"Against the collectors, none of us are." Zaeed looked down at his rifle. "We're all each other got, and we've got to stand with each other."

"You're both right," Shepard said. They stared at him. He began to reload a heat clip into shotgun as he spoke. "We need all the help we can get, but sometimes, we have to let civilians hide and we need to step up. We hide and we die." Miranda looked away, at that, before nodding. "We get shot, we get up. We get blown up, we get up. No matter what happens, we get up. Now, today, that doesn't matter because it seems we've got some help, but him-" Shepard pointed back at the nearly defeated form of Delan "- he is why we get back up. Not the people who support us, they will stand with us. Not the people who are afraid, they will know we will be there for them. No, we stand for people who hate us, because they need us the most. They don't know we're coming. They don't want us and shut us out. But we go there, we go to the ends of the galaxy for people that hate us.

"Cerberus knows that the best, right?" He waved at Miranda. "But it doesn't matter. We get up, we stand up, and we fight. It's why I stood back up when I was brought back." He slammed the clip into place. Moving toward the door, he looked back at Delan. "I stand back up because it's all I have left." He slammed his hand against the door, bypassing the lock. "Come on, someone else is standing and we can't leave them alone."

They followed him out of the garage. He was a survivor. He kept standing back up with every shot and every scrape. Sometimes people propped him up, and sometimes he propped others up. But he got back up. Even with the pounding of blood in his ears and the thundering echo of his heart. He stood back up.

"Shepard, it's getting worse at the tower controls," Garrus said. Shepard wondered if the Garrus heard him, but it didn't matter. The turian already went through hell with him. Once more into the breach. "Limited resistance before the controls. I think – DUCK!"

Immediately, all three of them did. Zaeed moved behind a crate, shoving Miranda with him. Shepard slid forward, watching as something flew toward them faster and faster it before slammed into the garage door. The object crunched under the force of the collusion with the door. It nearly was an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force, but this force met an object that wouldn't move. Pre-fabbed buildings they may be, but they were designed to withstand the force of a Cain slug.

"Son of a…" Zaeed said, poking his head out from behind the crate.

A large dent centered on the door hung above the crumpled drone. Its body was bent and broken. Unlike other collectors they killed, this one did not disintegrate in front of their eyes. It lay there, beaten by some force strong enough to propel it into the door. Shepard stared it, trying to figure out what could have done it. Most biotics he knew could definitely make a dent up close, say within several yards. But this looked like it was toss clear across the colony. What type of weapon could do that to someone? A Cain maybe, but still the distance didn't make sense. He didn't think the colonists were hiding anything, but thinking back to Novaria, anything was possible. Hopefully, there wasn't a plant monster hiding behind the colony this time. But given the way his luck was, something extraordinary was a part of the colony. That much he knew.

Miranda looked shocked, still kneeling behind the crate. So, whatever weapon was used was not something she – and by some extent, Cerberus – knew about. She seemed to be taking it, trying to memorize what had happened and the resulting damage. Zaeed just got up from his defensive position, and much like his earlier response to the husk, he poked the collector with his assault rifle.

"Well, I bet that coward really pissed his pants now," Zaeed said. He chuckled loudly as he turned toward Shepard.

"Disgusting." Miranda shook her head as she stood. Shepard covertly pointed at Zaeed then the collector. Her typical blank face response stared back at him, leaving him without an answer.

"Okay, so that completely wiped out my motivational speech," Shepard said. "Garrus, you catch the direction it came from?"

"From the access point, you need to head over there now." Garrus said. He sounded out of breath, panting heavily. "I'm heading down now, but you'll get there before me."

"Okay, let's move out," Shepard said. Activating his omni-tool, the map function quickly took over, directing him toward the access point they needed. He took off in a sprint, his legs pounding against uneven ground. He hoped Miranda and Zaeed followed him at the same pass, as he certainly didn't want to arrive without his squad. Garrus could take care of himself for the moment and seemed to be doing just fine.

As he ran, he saw other crumped collector bodies decorating the grounds. Dents in the pre-fabbed building echoed the one that nearly hit them. Burn marks scattered the area sporadically, as if someone randomly fired a gun and missed – repeatedly. The fight that came through here looked devastating for the collectors. How the colonists managed to throw the collector was beyond him, but someone stood up against the collectors. Now, Shepard had to survive long enough to stand with them.

Reaching another door, Shepard prepped a bypass program. Miranda and Zaeed apparently were able to keep up but both were slightly out of breath. He couldn't help but wonder what else Miranda changed in him when she rebuilt him. He felt cold and tired, but not from the running or the fighting. The fatigue was common for soldiers fighting too long. He felt it after Akuze and after Illos. Both times he just wanted to sleep forever and curl up in the warmth of something. For Akuze, it had been a bottle of the best stuff he could buy and locking his room up for a week. For Illos, Ashley had been his balm of serenity. What did he have now?

"Stick together," Shepard said. The door opened, finally showing the source of the resistance and likely weapon which threw the collector at them.

Shepard knew he should raise his weapon in defense, to duck behind a crate. Zaeed and Miranda weren't much better, considering that Zaeed swearing up a storm. But he stared in shock for a moment at the sight before him.

Collectors stood behind crates and cover, firing at the source of the resistance. The fire was directed away from the squad and they hadn't seen them arrive yet. But that seemed unlikely for the moment. The resistance was a man, one man alone without a gun, without armor, without anything. Except a large piece of metal he was using as a shield, deflecting a pulse rifle from an assassin collector.

"Give him some cover fire!" Shepard said. He raised his pistol, firing several shots off at a collector. It dropped quickly and he moved further into area. Miranda overloaded a set of husks as they climbed over a retaining wall while Zaeed laid down enough cover-fire to empty at least two clips.

The man swung the metal sheet, taking out several husks ambling toward him. As they got closer, Shepard could see burn marks and bruises against the man's skin, but no cuts. A series of shots hit him, causing the man to stumble and fall to his knees momentarily before swinging the metal sheet to send a collector flying off. How was this man standing? Shepard watched as several collectors fired on the man's open back. The man dropped the metal sheet and stumbled forward from the force, but otherwise did not appear too affected by the shots. The man picked up another scrap of metal and swinging at the group firing on him, grunting in pain as a particle beam burned into him before Miranda took out the assassin.

Shepard moved toward the tower array, hoping to get it going while the man fought. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but the man kept standing, kept fighting against the collectors without any weapons and with the strength and endurance that likely surpassed a krogan. No wonder a collector had landed near them, given the force of his swings.

"Let's see if we can get this going," Shepard said to himself. Omni-tool ready, he began to scan the systems. "EDI, how long?" Looking up, he watched a group of collectors land just on the other side of the array. Zaeed moved off to give the man some breathing room (moderately succeeding) while Miranda worked hard to limit the number of husks arrive into the area.

"It appears that array needs to realign for targeting. I have already begun the process, Commander."

"How long?" Shepard repeated. He snap freezed a collector that had moved too close before slamming his pistol through its shell. The collector shattered into pieces.

"Five minutes."

"We may not have that long." Miranda said. She had backed up toward him, forced to retreat against the onslaught of husks. She had switched from her pistol to her submachine gun, a M-4 Shuriken. It lacked the stopping power of her heavy pistol and Shepard avoided using one as much as he could. If she was using that she was low on clips, then it couldn't be good.

There was a pause in communication. "I'll work faster." Shepard smirked at EDI's comment. Despite being an AI, the ship's computer seemed to be developing a bit of an attitude. Likely spending way too much time talking with Joker.

"Hi." Only reason Shepard hadn't jumped was they were in the middle of battle. Despite the seriousness of the battle, the man's tone seemed light and friendly. Somehow, the man had moved from one side of the battlefield to the other, now defending them as Shepard tried to access the tower defense. The man held a sheet of metal up, providing them limited cover. "Thanks for showing up."

"How the hell are you still standing?" Zaeed said. He had slid underneath the metal cover. His assault rifle scrapped against the ground, sparks mixing with the flames of the barrel.

The man shrugged, his feet sliding backward under the force of the firing collectors. He was breathing heavily, shoulders slumping under the straining. "Thanks for showing up." He grunted. "Don't know – ugh - how much more I could take." The burns looked serious and his body purpled under the strain of the shots. How was he still standing and not a bloody mess on the group.

"Not done quite yet." Shepard said.

"Commander, I'm tracking a large object moving towards you." EDI chimed in through their comms.

"I see it," The man had turned, looking at metal sheet.

"See what?" Shepard asked. He removed his shotgun, reading a clip before tossing one to Miranda. Zaeed seemed fine firing away through a gap the man had left them.

Shepard got his answer as the ground shoot and a loud, angry screech pierced through the sounds of battle. The man swung the sheet, knowing down a group of advancing husks before throwing it at the source of the screech: a large bug. Where the collectors looked humanoid, this thing looked like a giant flea. Six legs held up its enormous body and biotic fields flickered about it. Its body looked like an unholy meld of husks, created by an angry child to smite its imaginary enemies. Four eyes stared down at them, glowing an incandescent purple as the eyes tracked them. The sheet of metal thrown at it was blasted into nothing by those same eyes as they fired a particle beam.

They all immediate ducked for cover as the beast fired. Miranda taking it behind the wreckage of a building while Zaeed bunkered down behind some crates left in the open. Shepard crouched behind the array tower as best as he could. He needed to stay close to the controls, but it left him wide open. The man hid near him, glancing at the bug before looking at them.

More collectors and husks had arrived, flooding the area. Zaeed's grenade burst into an inferno, taking down several, but those numbers quickly were replaced. Shepard fired his shotgun at the one closest to him before turning back toward the large creature barreling down toward him.

Firing off several rounds, Shepard moved as another set of beams fired at him. He vaguely heard Miranda and Zaeed firing as he dove behind another crate. The particle beams ripped apart the cover he had just stood behind. Leaning out of cover, he watched as their shots bounced harmless off what had to be the strongest barrier he had ever seen. Miranda's warp did not even put a dent in it, but that didn't stop them from trying.

Shepard executed his incendiary program, the shot flying off toward it. The program burst against the barrier, lighting it up slightly before dissipating. Swearing under his breath, he suddenly wished he had his rifle again, taking pot shots and ducking behind cover. The rush of battle dulled his hearing as he readied his tactical program to charge out of cover.

"I…I'll try and hold it off." Shepard felt the plan pushed away at the statement. He turned toward the man, who had moved from his original cover to one near him. Again, Shepard hadn't heard him move, but given the chaos the battle had now become, he wasn't surprised.

"With what?" Shepard asked. He moved out of cover slightly, firing several times and emptying his clip on his shotgun before ducking back. The shots broke against the barrier of the creature, but the barrier itself seemed to shudder and fall as he hid again.

"I'll think of something," the man said. He looked at his fists for a moment, before looking at the creature. The barrier that had fallen only moments before was now back up. "Look, it'll buy you some time. Just get those defense towers up."

"If you survive this, you've got a lot of questions to answer," Shepard said. The man shrugged, smiling at the statement. Despite the severity of the situation and the chaos around them, there was a calm to the man, a surety exuding from him as he stood up after another shot from the creature passed.

"Commander, thirty seconds." EDI's voice knocked Shepard back to reality. Whatever the mad man needed to do, he was going to be giving them the time to save the colony.

Initiating his tactical cloak, Shepard stood before running back toward the defense tower controls. Just as before, he felt the rush of battle move through his as bullets hit his shield and the others continued to fight. He caught a glimpse of the man picking up a large shard of the crate as a particle beam burned into his side.

Shepard could see the burning flesh as he reached the controls. Despite the earlier blast, the controls themselves looked relatively unharmed. He said a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of war for the small favors. His cloak dropped suddenly and he fell to the ground immediately. A particle beam passed over him, the heat pulsating the air as it moved. Heat he felt through the thermal wear of his armor.

Standing back up, Shepard began to work the controls, vaguely aware of Miranda and Zaeed protecting him as best as they could. Bullets still passed through and hit his now regenerated shield, but for the most part, he barely felt them. Miranda fell, her shield down and he watched her take a shot against her armor. Absently tapping his omni-tool, he sent medi-gel remotely to her own, the program hopefully stabilizing her enough to survive, if not get back up when this was over. His hands worked quickly, his omni-tool quicker, as he tried to establish a link with the Normandy and the towers. Glancing up, he watched the man bat away a collector and take another series of blows to the back. He took the collectors down, even as he stumbled under the onslaught of the attacks against him. Shepard's fingers kept going, taking advantage of the moment, flying over the controls before suddenly –

"YES!" Shepard grabbed his shotgun and fired a round a collector who had tried to sneak up on him. With his own fired shot, the defense towers fired. The echoing boom of that first shot as it left the cannons filled the colony. The collector fell and Shepard watched as the cannon's aim was true, striking the ship. Letting loose another cry of success, he fired his shotgun again, finally finding some hope in the situation that only minutes before seemed doomed.

It quickly was replaced by the angry cries of the creature as it lined up another shot from its own particle beams. Shepard turned toward it, his eyes searching desperately for some type of cover in the mangled area. The barrier may have dropped from around it, but the creature still appeared angry and dangerous enough. Shepard raised his shotgun in an insane attempt to take it down before it could get him.

"Arrrrgggh!" The man appeared from a pile of collectors, blood now dripping from several wound and burns as he leapt at the creature. The large shard of metal he had been holding early still gripped in his hands. He had left the ground, flying toward the creature as it prepared to fire at Shepard. Zaeed moved toward Miranda who struggled to get back up, both unaware of the creature's intent to kill him and them. Shepard watched in what had to be slow motion, as time crawled forward.

As the pulse of the particle beams gathered in the creature's eyes, Shepard watched the man land against the creature, some thirty feet in the air. The large metal shard forced through the creature. The pulsating purple grew brighter and brighter, as the man and the creature disappeared in the flash of what was now white light. A moment of silence and then… the pulsating beam violently exploded outward, blasting in all directions.

The explosion pushed Shepard back several feet, but he managed to stay standing. Zaeed covered Miranda's injured form from the blast. Wind roared past him as the shockwave passed. He tried to cover his ears against the ungodly sound of the blast, struggling to stay standing through all of it. Something flew past, what, he wasn't sure. The white light of the blast had blinded him, the wind and sound deafening him. For now, all he could hope for was the enemy dead and his squad still standing.

"-mmander, do you copy!" Shepard's ears finally stopped ring just as his vision began to clear.

"Repeat that." Shepard stumbled toward the forms of Zaeed and Miranda. In the distance, he watched as the collector's ship disappeared. They had wanted the colonists, and they had gotten them. Probably not all of them, but enough for whatever they wanted.

"Commander, is everyone alright?" EDI asked. He knelt beside them, checking for a pulse first on Miranda and thankfully finding one. Zaeed groaned by the time he had found Miranda's pulse.

"We're fine. Garrus?" He had almost forgotten about his friend, but with the battle over.

"Here Shepard." He turned toward the source of the voice. Garrus crawled over a large pile of debris that had block what had been the entrance to the area. "Seems you had quite the party without me."

"I really don't see how this was a party," Miranda said. Shepard moved to help her to her feet, but she waved off his hand. A cut bleed down from her forehead and bruises covered her face. Zaeed didn't look much better, but given that his armor covered more, Shepard probably wouldn't know how bad it was until he ordered the merc to go to the infirmary. He wondered how badly he looked to the others.

"Next time you get into a fight, I want in," Garrus said.

"Next time we fight one of those, it's all yours," Shepard waved toward the decimated remains of creature. _Shit. _"Where is he?"

"I thought he got vaporized along with the rest of them," Zaeed said. Shepard turned, trying to orient himself from the blast. If the creature dropped, then what flew past him?

"Zaeed, Garrus, start search. Spread out and see if you can find him." Shepard said. "Miranda, take it easy. We've got a moment."

"Shepard, I'm -" Miranda started, but Shepard cut her off.

"You are injured, but that doesn't mean you stop working. Coordinate with EDI on locating any survivors and see if we can got any data off the battle." He walked off, toward a pile of rubble.

Shepard's body ached with each step. The battle was over, and he felt exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, to fall on a bed somewhere and pass out for the next few hours. Scars from the rebirth pulled, leaving him in even more pain than normally.

"Commander, we've located a safe house. It appears that a group of them are heading your way." EDI communicated with them.

"Great, well, maybe Ash has an idea who that man was," Shepard muttered. His omni-tool flared as he scanned the rubble. There were no signs of life, or breathing or anything. Sighing he moved to the next one. "Anything?"

"Nothing yet," Garrus said.

"Do you really think we're going to find him?" Zaeed asked. He stood several yards away, crouching over a pile.

"We've got to try. Would you leave a man behind?" Shepard walked to the next one. "He gave his life for us, the least we can do is find the body." Garrus stood over a pile, staring at it as Zaeed got back to work.

"Shepard, you better come over here."


	3. Chapter Three: Aid upon the Normandy

**A/N: ** I own nothing. Mass Effect and associated features are owned by Bioware and EA. Superman/Clark Kent and associated features are owned by DC Comics and Warner Brothers.

**Chapter Three: Aid upon the Normandy**

As soon as they received word that the defense towers were up and running, Ashley took off toward them. She wasn't sure how Clark managed to retrieve so many people, including her, so quickly, but he had saved them and rushed off like a fool on his own. She convinced the colonists to work on getting the defense tower up first, and then the communication system. They managed to get the system operational, but needed someone to activate it. The echoing cannons in the distance let them know someone had.

Now, she was running through the colony, trying to get the defense array to see how Clark managed to do it. Scattered debris made it difficult to maneuver, forcing her to slow down her pace. Her assault rifle prepped in case of any attacks, but somehow, the area was clear.

As she approached a door, she found herself stopped by the sheer amount of damage left behind. Whatever had attacked them had nearly destroyed the colony in the process. Pushing scraps away, she began to climb over the debris. She spotted several figures moving, one woman and two men. A turian stood with his back to her, but once he spoke, she recognized him.

"Nothing yet." _Garrus was here? _Last Ashley had heard he was on Omega, doing some freelance work. _What's he doing here? _The turian looked older, certainly, but the scar on his face was new.

"Do you really think we're going to find him?" The older man asked. Something in her gut told her they were talking about Clark. She struggled over another crate, trying to get to them. They hadn't found him? Why not? What happened?

"We've got to try. Would you leave a man behind?" She stumbled over the crate, falling down. She stifled her cry, both in shock and pain. That voice had haunted her for over two years. _Shepard. _ He was alive. He was here. "He gave his life for us, the least we can do is find the body." Ashley shook her head, trying to block out thoughts. Clark was dead? The man who saved her, and the colony, died to save Shepard, the man she loved? Groaning, she pushed herself upright. She was going to say her goodbyes this time properly.

"Shepard, you better come over here." Garrus stood with his back to them. Shepard and the older man moved toward Garrus while the woman just looked up from where she was sitting. She likely was injured in whatever had caused all this damage.

Shepard immediately began to throw debris off the pile. Garrus and the older man began to help, the pile growing smaller as they worked.

"Damn, I can't believe it," the old man said.

"Normandy, emergency landing, as close to my position as possible. Tell Chakwas to prepare the med-bay." Shepard said into his comm. Ashley broke into a sprint, moving toward them. Her footsteps pounding along the ground gave her away and she stopped just shy of the pile, bypassing everyone. "Ash…" Shepard spoke her name with reverence.

"What the hell did you do Clark?" She knelt next to the body of a broken man. Literally.

Clark lay on the ground, more of a bruise and burn than human at this point. A broken bone protruded from his right arm, bleeding profusely. She immediately dropped to her knees, and tried to set it. Pushing with everything in her, she couldn't move the bone. Leaning back, blood on her hands, she stared at them and then at him. What the hell was he?

"Move miss, let me try," the older man said. Vaguely, she heard the sounds of the Normandy – how was that ship still operational? – landing nearby. She stumbled backward as the man took her spot, kneeling over Clark.

"Ash…I…" Shepard voice failed him again. She felt his eyes on her, but all she could do was stare at Clark.

"What are your bones made of?" The man seemed to be struggling to set the bone as well.

"I need you to move, Mister Massani." Ashely turned to see Dr. Chakwas standing with several field medics behind her. The man obliged, letting the medics shift Clark from the ground onto a stretcher. "Chief Williams. I wish we could have met again under better circumstances." Applied medi-gel began to treat the superficial wounds as bruises and burns began to fade away. It couldn't do much to the broken bones until they were set.

"Ma'am." Ashley said, finally moving her eyes away from Clark. Her training kicked in as she responded. Well, more of her mother's advice than anything else. Otherwise, she'd likely have decked Shepard. Shaking her head, Ashley moved into soldier mode. "Where are you taking him?"

"Onto the Normandy, we should be able to help him there," Chakwas said. The woman moved and Ashley finally caught a glimpse of the new Normandy.

"No." Ashley pulled her pistol, pointing it at them. She couldn't let them take Clark. "He's not going with Cerberus."

"Ash, it's okay," Shepard spoke. She turned toward him, pointing her pistol.

"It's okay. It's okay?" Her voice broke as she tried to understand the man in front her. This was not the man she traveled to hell and back with. This man worked for Cerberus. He worked for terrorists. "You're working for them, Shepard. THEM!"

"Ash, they're just going to help him." Garrus stepped in front of her, the pistol now pointed at his chest.

"Chief Williams, if it will make you feel better, you can come with us." She spun around, facing the woman who seemed to be barely holding herself up. Her attention was taken away by Shepard, which seemed like par for her life.

"We'll make sure he's okay Ash." Shepard stepped out from around Garrus. He motioned toward Chakwas and her team. Ashley stood still, watching as Clark got carried up the ramp and onto the ship.

"How can I trust you? You're with Cerberus." Ashley let her pistol drop, trying to regain control of herself. This was not how she expected to see Shepard again.

"Just give me a chance to explain," Shepard said. She nodded, not looking at him. At the moment, the life she had carefully constructed crashed with the life Shepard left in the wake of his death.

"If he makes it, then okay," Ashley holstered her weapon, "otherwise, all bets are off." She walked up the ramp, following the trail the medics left. Behind her, she heard Garrus attempting to comfort Shepard. Well, where was her comfort when she needed it?

She rode the elevator up in silence. She took several deep breaths to wrangle her emotions back under control. There were so many things she didn't understand at the moment. She couldn't grasp onto anything, with so many things going wrong. Everything had changed, but somehow, nothing had.

Shepard was alive, breathing in front of her. And her reaction was to pull her weapon on him? She had always thought she'd hug him and never let go, give into those 'feminine' emotions Joker joked about her never having. Instead, she played into everything everyone had ever said about her: A hothead female who couldn't handle command_. Living up to that family curse again, huh Williams?_ She pounded her first against the wall of the elevator. Why did it have to be Cerberus? There were just too many questions and not enough answers.

The elevator opened on what she hoped was the crew deck. If this was a recreation of the Normandy SR-1, then the med-bay should be on this level. Keeping her hand off her pistol, she stepped off the elevator with a calm she didn't have. She glared at a crewman who scurried of somewhere. At least she still could make the appearance of the badass.

"Set his arm!" Ashley had never heard Chakwas loss her cool in the operating theatre, but she could hear that yell even outside of the bay. Entering the med-bay, she watched as Chakwas worked with a salarian and a set of nurses.

"Resisting all attempts. Dense bone? No. Maybe. Have to analyze his structure more." The salarian spoke quickly, his sentences truncated.

"Analyze it on your own time, Mordin. We need to set the bone or he's going to bleed out." Chakwas was wrapping the arm in a tourniquet as a stop gap. Ashley felt like someone punched her in the gut.

"Pressure not sufficient. Perhaps a biotic field? Strong enough to warp metal. May be sufficient," Mordin said.

"I'll try." Ashley turned to look at the woman who had somehow snuck up on her. This was the first chance she had to look at her, and she felt the pit of her stomach drop.

The woman stood several inches above her and looked like she had been carved from stone or something. Her body looked perfect, even with the scraps visible through her cut-up uniform. Even the blood flowing from a head wound managed to add to her perfectness. Not a hair out of place and her tits seemed to be standing perfectly firm without anything. Hell, somehow the woman fought in something that provided absolutely no protection or support. Ashley looked down at her own form, before glaring at Miss Perfect-Tits.

"Are you sure Miss Lawson? You should be in here as well," Chakwas said. Lawson moved around her, entering the med-bay. Ashley watched as the bio-field formed around her. Of course she was a biotic, was there something that she couldn't do?

"I'm fine." The biotic field moved out from the woman's hands, surrounding Clark's arm. Ashley watched a perfect vein formed on the woman's head as she strained to hold the field. For as perfect as the woman was, she hoped that Lawson managed to fix the break.

"Definitely not fine." Mordin caught Lawson as she fell backward. He guided her over to a table. "Hmm.. Insufficient strength. It may be necessary to use a stronger biotic." Lawson groaned at this. "Yes. Difficult indeed."

"Why? What's so difficult about that?" Ashley asked. Every moment speculating was a moment wasting time. This man could die because he tried to save them, save her.

"Jack is…temperamental." Mordin said.

"She'll help out." Ashley turned to see Shepard pushing a young woman about her height into the med-bay. The woman, presumably Jack, recovered from her stumble and cross her arms defiantly. Her head was close-shaven and tattoos covered just about every area on her body. What little clothes Jack wore seemed to barely cover her. She actually reminded Ashley of a more extreme version of one of her sisters.

"Like hell I will." Jack grumbled. "Can't force me to do a fucking thing." A biotic field seemed to roll off her and lash out at the world. Shepard stepped forward, as if to try and talk with her, convince her to help.

"Please," Ashley said before Shepard could say or do anything. She stepped up, feeling the field surround her. Jack stared, or rather glared at her for a moment before looking away. The biotic field pulled back, rescinding with a breath as Jack seemed to calm down. The younger woman nodded, agreeing to help out.

Jack stopped next to Clark's side. The biotic field coalesced into reality as it wrapped around his arm. She strained, just like Lawson did, as she tried to force the bone back into place. The field grew darker and brighter at the same time, flashing against Clark's pale skin. Grunting, she curled his fingers into fists over Clark's arm, tightening the field. Ashley watched in shock, holding her breath, as the bone began to move down. Jack swayed before standing back up. The biotic field flashed for a moment before she regained control over it. With a guttural scream, Jack forced the field to constrict enough to force the bone back into place with a loud snap.

Ashley moved to catch Jack as she stumbled backward. "Thanks," she said to the younger woman. Jack nodded, before shoving herself away from Ashley.

"Don't say I never did nothing for ya," Jack muttered, stumbling her way past Shepard. Chakwas and the other medics moved over to Clark's side.

"What is he?" Chakwas asked. Ashley peaked around one of the medics, surprised to see the broke skin scabbing over. His arm looked slick from all the blood he lost, but somehow, the cut formed from the broken bone looked like it had been healing for at least a month, if not longer.

"I don't know," Ashley whispered. She stared at the now healing arm before shaking her head. She had to start acting like an Alliance solider again and she was currently on a terrorist's vessel. "But none of the data you took from him is staying here."

"What? Why?" Mordin had jumped up from helping Lawson. Shepard moved further into the med-bay, trying to defuse a situation. Obviously, telling Mordin he couldn't study something wasn't a smart thing to say, nor was it polite to demand things from your hosts. Ashley always prided herself on pissing people off though, so it didn't hurt her too much sticking her neck out.

"Ash, we wouldn't do anything with it." Shepard said. "Mordin is the best scientist I know. He'll be able to figure out this all out."

"Shepard, I don't care who you know, you work for Cerberus. And that man is an Alliance citizen," Ashley pointed at Clark, "who did not - and I highly doubt would - give permission for anyone to do anything to him. The only reason he is even on this ship is because he needed immediate medical attention." Shepard winced under her words.

"I can't defend what Cerberus did in the past, but I just…Ash, you know me, you know I wouldn't be involved with them unless it was important," Shepard said, trying to argue with her.

"You're right, I did know you," Ashley said, taking a step forward toward him. "But that was two years ago. Two years, Shepard. I thought you were dead. We all did." She paused, trying to find the words. She had memorized dozens of speeches, things she wanted to say to him if he was alive. And now, here he was.

"I would have followed you anywhere. I thought you were gone… I... you were more than our Commander." Ashley loved him, more than life and more than the corps. Shepard showed her that her life was more important than the next mission, the next battle. He made her feel wanted, loved even. Something no one outside her family ever accomplished. "Why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"

"I was out for two years. You moved on with your career and your life." So that's it. She wasn't as important to him as he was to her. She bit her tongue, trying to hold back the tears.

"I moved on, but you keep pulling me back in. And now, we've got reports about you and Cerberus. Looks like they were right." She tried to move on, but the lie was more comforting than telling him she spent more nights with a bottle than was healthy, more nights mourning him than she spent celebrating his life. He was an everything to her. And without him, all she had was the corps and the Alliance. She dove back into them both. "Alliance intel said Cerberus could be behind our missing colonies. We got a tip that this one could be next to get hit.

"I went to Anderson, but he wouldn't talk. But there were rumors…saying you weren't…that you were somehow still alive. I could handle that part. You coming back, would have been like you were MIA, but that wasn't the worst part. No, you were supposedly working for the enemy."

"Our colonies are disappearing. The Alliance turned their back on them. Cerberus was the only group willing to do anything about it." Shepard said. His voice sounded haggard. His scars tugged at his face, but behind the pain, behind his blue eyes, she still saw the Shepard she fell in love with. She saw the man who made her believe in more. And that's what made all of this hurt even more.

"Bullshit!" Ashley spat. "I know what Cerberus is like. You do too. They talk about putting humans first, but at what cost?" Shepard looked away, but she saw his fists tightening as he struggled to control himself. She wished he would show her something, some type of emotion. Anything more than just this robotic, canned speeches and responses he gave. "I wanted to believe that you were alive. I just never…never expected anything like this." Looking at Clark, she tried to regain control of her emotions. "I'd like an opportunity to contact my superiors. I won't tell them where I am, but they need to know the colony has been attacked." She looked at the ground, at the beds, at Clark, Chakwas, even Ms. Perfect-Tits. Anywhere but Shepard.

"I'll keep an eye on your friend Chief," Chakwas offered. "His vitals look good and maybe if he wakes up soon, we can get some answers from him."

"Thank you." Finally getting herself under control, she looked over at Shepard. He appeared about as healthy as she felt. "You should get some rest Skipper, you've got a good crew with you." He gave her a half-smile, nodding. The conversation was over, but the disagreement would stand. She offered the statement as a truce – agree to disagree. He was doing something he believed in, always had, always will, and one of the things she loved most about him.

"Garrus, mind showing her to a secure comm?" The turian in question nodded, smiling a bit through his scars. She'd have to ask how he got his, but that could happen after she updated Anderson.

"You can use my station," Lawson said. She held herself up, using the bed for leverage before standing upright. "I can set up the link so that no one will see it. Not even Cerberus."

"Thank you Miranda," Shepard said. Wonderful, he was on a first name basis with the walking marble model. She nodded, giving what seemed to pass as a smile to Shepard. Ashley followed her out the door, subtly trying to motion for Garrus to help Shepard. He nodded, giving her a tight smile as she left the med-bay.

"So, where's your station?" Ashley asked once they were out of the med-bay and in the mess. Glimpsing over to the cook's area, she had a flash to Kaiden standing there, messing with his gear. She looked away, and tried not to let the pain of the image show on her face.

"Through here," Lawson motioned to a set of doors. And of course she was his XO. The woman sat behind her desk and began to type out something. Standing up must have been more painful than sitting, as she took her time, using the desk for leverage. Ashley begrudgingly gave her props for working through the pain. "You should be able to send a secure message from this terminal. It will be deleted immediately after being sent, but I've included a drop number for whoever needs to contact you to respond."

"So no one else will see it?" Ashley asked. Lawson nodded, leaning against the door frame as Ashley moved over to the desk.

"There will be no record of it, and if anyone tries to find it, it will appear as junk mail." Lawson said.

"Thank you," Ashley managed to get out. Lawson nodded and made to move away, but stopped and stared at her.

"I know you are upset with Shepard, and I know you have a lot to work out," Lawson said. She paused, as if struggling to find the right words to say. "But he means well, and is always trying to do the right thing."

"I know," Ashley slumped against the desk. "I know, which makes it so much harder that he is working for you."

"He's not, just taking our money," Lawson said. Ashley couldn't help the snort as she tried to hold back her laugh. It definitely sounded like something that Shepard would do. "Cerberus may have made a mistake in bring him back, but the galaxy needed him. Again." Lawson turned to leave, giving Ashley only a few moments to make up her mind.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was just loud enough to stop Lawson. "For bring him back." It needed to be said. Whatever happened between the two of them now, if she could find it in herself to love him again, to work through the hurt and pain, she still needed to thank someone who brought him back to her. Even if she wasn't sure he was hers any more, or she was his.

Lawson looked at her, and nodded her understanding. Ashley leaned back in the chair and tried hard not to glare as Shepard's perfect XO walked away. That woman even managed to play human better than Ashley felt like being at the moment. She hated having to apologize, and now, with just a few words, felt like maybe she should to Shepard. She hated everything Cerberus stood for, but somehow, she was placed in the position of having to thank them for bring Shepard back.

How the hell was she going to get all this in a short email?

A/N: Thank you for the reviews and follows so far. I hope you are enjoying this sojourn into the Mass Effect universe. My goal is to attempt to get a chapter posted every other weekend, and I strive to complete goals.

For now, this is heavy on the ME characters, but as the story progresses, we will see more DCU characters coming into the fold.

One thing I like to do is pick actors I think would fit the roles of the characters well. So, I've decided to add them at the end of the chapter, especially if I add new characters.

To date, these are the characters and respective actors who could fulfill the roles (in order of appearance within the story):

Clark Kent - - - - - - - Henry Cavill

Ashley Williams - - - Sarah Shahi

John Shepard - - - - - Aaron Eckhart

Miranda Lawson - - - Yvonne Strahovski

Zaeed Masini - - - - - Gerard Butler

Garrus Vakarian - - - Jeremy Renner

Mordin Solus - - - - - David Tennant

Dr. Karin Chakwas - Carolyn Seymour


	4. Chapter 4: Waking Up

**Chapter Four: Waking Up**

His body felt heavy (nothing new) and ached like it should have after a long day working on the farm (which was). But even before he had a chance to register the heaviness or the aching was the noise.

His ears shuddered as howling discordance of scraps, rattles, breaths, heartbeats, murmurs, yells, screams, complaints, and whispered endearments pushed past whatever control he possessed. Millions of syllables and noises meshed together into painful reminder of his differences. Everything compressed into a single force against his ear drums, unyielding harder and harder with each of his own thundering heartbeats.

_Focus, Clark._ His own thoughts mimicking his father's words pounded inside his head. A slow, deep controlled breath inhaled as he fell back onto thoughts of his father, the only thing he could grasp in the moment behind the agony of the cluttered sound around him.

_I'm here for you, son. Listen to me._ _Listen to my heart. _The memory of his father holding him close after an episode punctured through the mess of the world around him. He flashed back to the warm arms surrounding him, rocking back and forth, back and forth. Through all the noises then, through pain, he concentrated on his father's heartbeat. And then he listened to his own. Just those two simple, comforting sounds, echoing past the noise of the world. Eventually, the noises would die down, and all he would hear was their heartbeats. Never really beating the same rhythm, but beating together all the same.

Heartbeats were among the first things he had ever concentrated on, to ease the pain of simply hearing too much. Trying to hear and identify his father's and then his mother's, heartbeats rooms and miles away was a challenge, but so rewarding. Growing up, for a long time, he just had them (he never was really good at making friends), and then he always knew where they were. No matter where he was on Earth, even away at college, if he closed his eyes, and thought hard enough, long enough, he could hear he beats echoing back to him.

Every heart beat was different, unique in its own way. Different pace, different rhythm, even skipping beats at times. Human, turian, krogan, asari, quarian, whatever. All species had a heartbeat, and he could hear them all. He learned to hear the differences to find them on just about any planet. After a while, he could hear people's heart beat miles away, but never repeating what he could with his mother's and father's. Now, though, whenever he felt the control slipping, he mediated on heartbeats.

The process was simple, instinctive. He painstakingly sorted the sounds and noises. Metal scraping against metal. Doors being slammed shut and jolted open. The collective disorganization of inhaling and exhaling. Murmurs of conversations about an attack, damage, the lost. Pounding of hearts, racing to find love ones, to grieve. Screams and yells of anguish at the loss when they were not found. Complaints against the Alliance, though whispered under their breaths. Whispered endearments of finding a love one still here, thanking every deity. All of it faded away, chipped slowly by the calming breaths and relaxing mantras of his father.

The only sound left that he perceived (since all of the other sound was still there, just ignored and not-processed) was a heartbeat. First his, then he could make out two other hearts beating in the immediate area, likely only several meters away. The distance was not difficult to distinguish. Sound travels in a predictable method through a given medium. In this case, breathable air for most people with limited obstructions in the center of the area.

One heart was human while the other belonged to a salarian, given the rapid beating and increased pattern from it. Both seemed to be concerned primarily with whatever was in this room, so it stood to reason they were concerned about him. For the moment, they were not a threat, so he let his senses relax a little more, searching for more heartbeats.

Thirty different humans onboard this ship, along with the salarian (three chambers instead of four), one krogan (two hearts), and a turian (similar to humans). The heartbeat for the turian, (Garrus?) matched the one from the groundside on Horizon. Three other heartbeats matched as well, with one down below him somewhere, one above, and one on this floor still. Though, the one above him was moving down, likely in an elevator. That one, he thought, belonged to the one called Shepard if the communication between the squad he fought with indicated anything.

Now, with his hearing at least under control, he let the memories of the fight wash over him. For anyone else, it would have been suicide to dive into battle, without a plan, without a weapon. Well, technically he had a plan, he just never got the chance to use it.

Clark Kent had been taught from an early age to stand up for others when they need help, to stand beside them when they did wonderful. Even before he could control his powers, for lack of a better term, he understood the importance of protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. Most of the time, it was the small things: saving a kitten from a tree, donating money or time to charity, hip-checking a car to stop it from rolling over a child playing behind it, or walking through burning building to save someone. He tried to make a difference, even if he was afraid of being found out. The thought conflicted with what his father desired, to keep him safe, and what he wanted for himself, to be a part of the world. It meant he ran whenever he stepped in and a small thing became a big thing. Like at Freedom's Progress or here on Horizon.

The choice to save the colonists was instinctual. The ability to fight was not. He may have wanted to save them, and had the drive, but knew nothing about fighting others. He abhorred guns, refused to pick them up even for hunting, so using one to fight those creatures would likely not worked. But he still tried. He had to try.

Trying meant pulling the only Alliance soldier, one Ashley Williams, into a safe house before diving into the thick of things. He was surprised to hear her heartbeat amongst the thirty and fairly close. She probably rested only a few rooms away, given the rhythm and pitch of her heart.

Adjusting and meditating usually did not take long for him, but waking up like this, in a haze and with everything blaring at once scared him slightly. The sensation was both familiar and new. Familiar in the sense that he had experienced an information overload, simply trying to hear the world around him (he had yet to open his eyes), and new in the sense that he never had to reestablish his focus unless he overexerted himself. Even in those instances where he did overexert, recovery was minimal.

When he woke up, Clark felt like the world imploded in on his ears, every noise and sound open and received. The pain almost intolerable, but he worked through it, and now, even with his ears still ringing and aching, he opened himself up to something more than heartbeats. The two closest to him seemed to be talking.

"-ppen?" A female said. Her voice calm and collected, her heart echoing that pattern as she moved closer. He felt something brush against one of his ears and he held back a shudder.

"Unknown. We screened for pathogens and diseases. Results inconclusive, but possible that one of those the cause. More data necessary for adequate hypothesis." The salarian spoke just as quickly as his heartbeat.

He didn't want any testing. Nothing done to him. He had no idea how long he had been out or what had been done to him. But being tested was the last thing he wanted. Clark forced himself to respond, pushing past the fatigue and aches radiating from every part of his body.

"No." Clark winced as someone dropped a metal tray. Likely the female doctor, given how close it was to her heartbeat. "I'm sorry for frightening you." He smiled comfortingly, hoping that her heart-rate would go down a bit. "But I would rather not be experimented on." He waited another moment, letting them both calm down some more before swinging his feet off the bed on the side opposite of the dropped tray. "Can either of you explain why I am here? Or should I wait for Commander Shepard?" The man's heartbeat was coming closer, and no signals were sent out. Likely, the commander was coming to check up on him.

"What?" the female asked. The doors behind her slide open as Shepard walked in. He stopped at the sight of both the salarian and the doctor froze, or rather, Clark figured that was what happened. No sound came from Shepard's boots hitting the floor, so the man must have stopped.

"Commander, I was just asking if they could explain why I am here," Clark said.

"How do you know who I am?" Shepard asked. His breathing was pained, limited by some injuries. Clark wasn't surprised to hear the man walking about, still commanding his troops.

"Remarkable. Advanced echolocation possible explanation for accuracy of the response." The salarian finally had recovered from the shock, and seemed to slip right back into work mode.

"My mother always said I had a good ear," Clark offered. It was the truth, though she usually said it after piano practice, not referencing his ability.

He worked to maintain a calm, focused center, exuding that from his being. In the face of the unknown, Clark tried to maintain his grasp over his abilities. Studying him was only one of a dozen or so objectionable outcomes others may arrive to when confronted with what he could do.

"I'm not being held captive am I?" He could theoretically fight his way out. Despite being knocked around and apparently unconscious, he still felt the tensions in his muscles, waiting to turn the potential into a kinetic burst of strength. Always different and always in control, he strove to protect others, but no one outside his family could protect him.

"Of course not, Kent," Shepard said.

"I know you're not going to ask how I know your name, given who you are and what you've done," Clark said, motioning toward him. "But I would like to know your companions at least, and how you know mine." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear as harmless as possible.

Williams had begun to move, coming closer. Her heart-rate had increased, not enough that anyone else would notice, but given how invasive this already was, the simple change in rate was noticeable to him. The still unidentified female and salarian both seemed to be calming down at least, both heart rates reducing to normal levels for the species.

"This is Doctor Chakwas, our medical specialist," Shepard said. He pointed toward someone but luckily, the doctor spoke up.

"Pleasure to meet your acquaintance." The female said. "Sorry, I forgot you couldn't see." She was avoiding telling him what happened, though they could get to discussing his prognosis. Hopefully.

"Actually I can, just trying not to at the moment," Clark offered. He held out his hand and Doctor Chakwas shook it. Her grip was firm, but her hands were wrinkled slightly from age.

"What do you mean by that?" The salarian asked.

"The over-excited scientist before you is Dr. Mordin Solus." No hand took his this time, but Clark reached up and grabbed the buzzing omni-tool in front of him.

"I said 'No' to the data," Clark loosened his grip, letting go of Mordin. The omni-tool stopped and the salarian took at least a step back.

"Told ya he wouldn't like it." Williams had entered the medical facility. Well, her appearance provided a likely answer for how Shepard knew his name.

"Well, I did tell him to stop." The pain in his ears receded enough for him to start to concentrate on his sight.

Opening his eyes, light across the spectrum bombarded his receptors. He saw the people in the room, through them, through the wall and out into the courtyard where they fought. Body parts flickered in and out of focus. Bones superimposed against the structure of the medical facility. Muscles and blood vessels seemingly weaving in and out doors and other people. Unlike with his hearing, the images were something he could tolerate for a short while before his eyes fully adjusted again. At least with his sight, he could fake being normal.

"Thanks Chief Williams. I appreciate someone looking for me while I was unconscious." He said to the back of Williams's skull, before shifting to her muscles. Her zygomaticus majors and minors pulled on each side of her face, presumably smiling at him.

"Any data we collected will be turned over to you." Shepard's eyes turned toward Mordin, as Clark could only see the nervous system. Shaking his head, he tried to relax as the strain of being aware of multiple lights started to take its toll.

"Before or after you review it? Or make a copy of it?" Williams asked. Blinking, he shifted between visions before settling on seeing her tan face. Hazel eyes stared at him for a moment shifting their gaze over to Shepard. _Well, that's typical._ He thought, before considering the salarian. Williams seem enthralled by the commander, repeating a pattern of how most women acted around him. Initial interest swiftly followed by going back to the man from their past. Typically, without any interaction on his behalf.

"I understand your excitement, but…" Clark let his voice trail off. He wanted to know who he was, and why he was different than everyone else. But not like this, not one someone else's agenda. He needed to know each step, and control over each step.

"Yes. I was just keeping track of vitals, per the doctors' orders." Mordin said. His hands were raised in a placating gesture. Clark felt his eyes shift visions again as he conversed with Mordin.

Clark never had the opportunity to observe a salarian and the cartilage structure they possessed. They looked more like sharks from the zoology books Clark read for the university than anything else. The bones appeared to be floating, likely attached together through muscular tendons. A shift in his vision alluded to this, though circulatory system looked a forest green. The body seemed on full tilt, heart pumping rapidly as any salarians does, but ready to jump out of his chest.

"Well, can I have the only copy of it please?" Clark asked. His question left no room for bartering. He didn't threaten either, but he wasn't going to take the chance either. Mordin nodded, his facial features highlighting his eagerness.

"My apologies. You're in a new location, different people. Understandably frightening," Mordin said. "Would like to discuss with you about…everything eventually. But only if you want to." He rushed the last sentence – an amazing fear, given how quickly he talked already – and somehow Clark got the feeling that Williams was the cause. And he really needed to learn her first name.

"Maybe," Clark said, "but not at the moment. Right now, if it's alright, I would like to leave." His eyes relaxed, falling back into what could be considered 'normal vision' and thankfully staying there.

"No, we need to know what the hell happened out there." Shepard glared at him.

"From what I understand of Alliance regulations, I am not required to respond because one – I am not a soldier under your command, and two – you are not a commissioned officer, so you can't order me around." Clark hopped off the bed. "Also, thank you for the pants." He was fairly certain his were destroyed when he fought those things.

"Yes, certainly a sacrifice to put a new pair on you, but we carry on," Dr. Chakwas said. Clark blushed slightly, but simply smiled at the doctor. "What Shepard is trying to ask in his own…unique way is we don't understand how you could have survived."

"I'm not sure how I did either, but I don't trust you." He shrugged his shoulders.

"With good reason," Williams said, earning herself a glare from Shepard.

"This doesn't mean I trust you either," he gave her a self-depreciating smile, "no offense, but so far, I've woken up in a strange place, with strange people and only given a handful of names with no explanation of what I just walked through."

"Quid pro quo? Yes, good policy, you share with us and we share with you. Seems fair enough. Shepard?" Mordin said.

"The proposal seems fair, though I have to warn you, my side of the story isn't that entertaining," Clark offered. He would give them what he knew, however, what he knew would probably fill a notecard. But no studying, not yet. And not by anyone he didn't trust. "Plus, maybe something to eat and a shirt?"

"As long as I am there too," Williams said. Clark raised an eyebrow, questioning the statement, while Shepard's glare intensified for a moment before relaxing.

"Yeah, that's fair," Shepard admitted, "we'll see if the Mess Sergeant can't whip us something up."

"Oh joy, army food." This was a military ship, just not aligned with the Alliance. Okay, he could handle that, until he figured out what was going on.

"I'd say that it wasn't, but we haven't had a chance to stock up on supplies," Shepard said.

"Shepard, you work for Cerberus and you still eat like shit?" Williams groaned. "I was hoping for at least one decent meal before hitting Alliance space again."

"Wait…Cerberus, the terrorist group?" Clark stopped trying to put on the shirt just handed to him. He looked at Mordin and Chakwas, finally noticing the symbol on Chakwas' uniform. "No, no, I'm out of here." He dropped the shirt as he tried to get out of the door.

Cerberus acted in the best interest of humanity, but did so at the expense of other races and even other humans. Everyone was expendable to them. And he had caught the new on the extranet several times about their confirmed activities. Before, he had thought that it was Shepard's crew, but now he understood: This was all just something Cerberus concocted in order to advance the human race.

Only problem was, he wasn't human. He didn't know what he was, but human did not begin to define why he had all these powers. Cerberus would lock him up in a cage somewhere, or try to at the very least, and people would get hurt. It was just like his father warned him about.

The people seemed nice, willing to listen to talk. Hell, having the nominal aliens on board made it easier for him to accept their assistance. Was that just a ploy, an act to get him to capitulate to their schemes? The plans they succeeded in never would have been made public, but their failures (especially high profile ones) were attributed to the group, directly or indirectly. Whatever happened here, was something Cerberus wanted to succeed at.

As gently as he could, he pushed his way past Shepard. The man skidded into the wall as Clark moved by, surprising everyone in the room. Williams called out to him to stop, but couldn't. Not when he was on a ship funded by the one group he absolutely needed to stay away from.

He stumbled his way to the elevator, trying to hurry and move as quickly as a normal person could, but nearly tripping under his feet in his restraint. He choked back a laugh at the action. Restraint summed up his entire life, well, that and control. His entire life he spent trying to restrain himself, not injure others when simply shaking their hand or patting them on the back (hadn't done either of those in a long time) and trying to refrain himself from seeing and hearing things he wasn't supposed to in an effort to maintain some self-composure.

"Clark, wait," Williams caught up to him. She stepped into the elevator with him though made no move to touch him.

All the fear was turning into rage as he began to make those logical conclusions about Cerberus' actions. He shook, trying to contain the extreme emotions. His control slipped and he began to hear the discordance again. Not loud like it had been when he woke up, but it started to hum in the background, only adding to his current disequilibrium.

"How is Alliance with Cerberus?" He asked. His voice was a harsh whisper as he reigned in his emotions. The question needed to be answered, before he could even think of anything else. Operations Chief Williams was with the Alliance, and from what he could tell of his and her short time on the colony, she stood up for it no matter what the fight.

"We aren't," she said just as softly. "I just sent Councilor Anderson an email, briefing him on all of this. He knows where I am and he knows I have a civilian with me. If anything happens to either of us, the Alliance will be aware of it."

"I'd be more worried about you," Clark said. He turned to look at her. Before, he had moved her about and initial just interacting with her, he never noticed the size difference. Just as she seemed to in charge and in everyone's face about things, he never noticed how short she was in comparison to him, and Shepard since the man looked about his height.

The train of thought only served to make him angry at the end. "I thought Shepard was on your side," Clark said, flexing his fists as he tried to mentally release some of the anger through his fingertips. "How did he end up on a Cerberus ship?"

"They brought him back. I don't know how, but the why is those bug things you fought," Williams leaned back against the elevator wall. She crossed her arms defensively. "He's been dead for two years, and they bring him back to fight the Collectors."

"The bug things?" Clark asked.

"Yeah, somehow, they didn't freeze you," Williams said, looking him over. For some reason, Clark got the impression he was be appraised or evaluated for some flaw. It wasn't like Mordin's or Chakwas' scientific curiosity, or Shepard's general sense of angry and distrust. Williams seemed to be looking for something, and nodded to herself when she was satisfied. "I know you have no reason to trust any of us, but the way I see it you have three options."

"Okay, what are my options?" Clark turned to lean against the wall himself. His anger still bubbled just under the surface, but he had calmed enough the discordance of noise around him faded away and his vision seemed to have cleared up as well.

"Option one: we trust Cerberus and follow their lead." Williams scowled at even mentioning it. "Option two: we trust Shepard and follow his lead."

"We?" Clark interrupted.

"Yeah, we. You're a civilian. And as the only Alliance representative in there, and on this planet, I have to look out for you." She had not seen him jump onto that creature, but Clark thought that even if she had, she would have meant it. "I know the Alliance hasn't always done the right thing, but I try to, and right now…"

"I get it," Clark said. "You want to help. You have the drive to help. And more importantly, you have the ability to." He looked at his fists, flexing them before relaxing them against his thighs.

"Damn straight," Williams said. Clark couldn't help the small smile forming. He never met a woman who seemed so willing to swear. Must be a military thing. "Now, option three: We listen to their side, and head back to the Alliance space, before telling Cerberus to fuck off."

"Well, of the three, I know which one is your preferred choice." Clark pushed himself off the wall. Running a hand through his hair, he searched for words. "Cerberus is wrong. What they've done in the past, and what they stand for are abominations to everything humanity should strive for. I don't want to be a part of that, even tangentially. Even if they are doing the right thing, their actions are still tainted with everything Cerberus has done to bring them here. So, I guess, for now, my choice is option three."

"I figured it would be."

"One more thing, can I at least know your first name?" Williams didn't say anything, but raised an eyebrow at his question. "It's just, I figured we missed that drink, and I'd get your first name then. But since we missed it…"

"It's Ashley," she said, smiling at his fumbled reasoning.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ashley," he held out his hand for her to shake. She took it with a blush before leaving the elevator, heading around to the mess.

"These military people are going to be the death of me," Clark muttered to himself. He wasn't sure how to take everything about to thrown at him. Surviving all of this drew attention to him in a way he was not expecting. His strength, endurance, and speed beyond human achievement scared even him and now people wanted answers from him only made matters more complicated and more confusing.

"Hey, I have one more request," Clark said, following Ashley in a controlled, slow jog. He stopped at the table. "I need a secure line to my mother." He got several odd looks from everyone, but he couldn't help but smile. His mother was singularly the most important person to him in the galaxy. "She knew I was here, and she's going to worry." Someone must have taken the shirt out of the medical bay, so he grabbed it and put it on quickly. The cold didn't really affect him too much, but being covered at least made him appear normal. It made him feel more comfortable as well.

"Sure," Shepard said. He did nothing to hide the confusion or skepticism out of his voice. "After we debrief." Clark took the open seat next to Ashley and across from Shepard. Drs. Chakwas and Solus both had retreated to the medical facilities after their conversation, but now the doctor was leaving for the elevator. "Miranda's going to join us." Shepard motioned to the woman next to him.

"Ma'am," Clark held out his hand to the woman who sat ramrod in her chair. The woman was about the same height as Shepard, maybe a few inches shorter. Black hair framed a pale, attractive face, topping a model's body. Ashley looked petite next to the woman, but still more intimidating (potentially because the other woman was trying to appear non-threatening). After a moment, she shook his hand.

"Mister Kent, I am Executive Office Miranda Lawson," she said, glaring at Shepard's lack of formalities. Ashley seemed to glare at XO Lawson for some reason, probably because of her position as second in command to Shepard and she was the most likely candidate for a direct representative to Cerberus. "I understand we are going to discuss what happened during the last few hours. Now, shall we begin?"

"Wait? You mean me?" Clark was slightly dumbfounded by the brazen approach. Her statement was more of a demand then a request, implicitly instructing Clark to share his information first.

"Miranda, we'll start," Shepard said. He leaned back in his chair, orange scars burning brightly against his pale skin. "So far, we know the Collectors, those creatures, are actively targeting human settlements and kidnapping the populations. This is done without a single casualty and no one is left behind."

"Until today," Ashley added.

"Yeah, until today. We responded when the signal from Horizon went dark, but I'm curious as to how the Alliance knew to protect Horizon." Shepard looked at Ashley, silently asking for an answer. Or demanding one. Clark really couldn't tell through the scars and exhaustion on the commander's face.

"Anderson never said what his source." Ashley said. "I mean, the chain of command rarely tells us grunts anything. I was just sent out here to supervise and trouble-shoot the project."

"Figures," Shepard said. "The Collectors are real. You saw them; we need to do something about them." Ashley flinched at the verbal slap before leaning forward to glare at the commander.

"We are. Some of us aren't willing to sacrifice everything we believe in," Ashley said. Just as Shepard's word had struck Ashley hard, Ashley's retort struck him.

"Everyone, calm down," Clark said. "You two can argue about that later. Right now, we were discussing what happened. Commander Shepard arrived due to the lack of communication from the colony while Operations Chief Williams was ordered here to update the defenses." He regarded them both as he tried to establish the facts. "Chief Williams, were you here because of the Collectors, was it?" Clark said, checking with Shepard and Lawson. Shepard nonverbally confirmed his question, while Lawson simply glowered at him. "Because of the Collectors, or were you here for something else?"

Ashley leaned back in her chair, trying to appear relaxed but ultimately failing. "The Alliance received word of Cerberus's involvement with Freedom's Progress. My orders were to prepare the colony in case of an attack by the terrorist organization."

"So the Alliance isn't even bothering to prepare against the Collectors?" Shepard said. "Of course not. I mean, it's not like something as massive as a colony's population is missing."

"Again, arguing isn't going to get us anywhere," Clark said before Ashley could fire back at Shepard. Somehow, Clark stepped into the mediator role, to get the two of them to at least agree on a narrative of what occurred. He pondered sharing his presence of Freedom's Progress, but his actions did nothing to assist this discussion. "Now, what did the Collectors do? We – by we, I mean the colonists – saw their ship arrive. It had to have been larger than a dreadnought, but somehow, it landed on the planet. How did they freeze everyone? Well, maybe freeze is inaccurate. They placed everyone in stasis somehow, but your squad was not affected."

"No, and neither were you," Lawson added.

"Neither was everyone in the safe house," Clark said. He refrained from answering her question, and Lawson seemed to realize it. "My question is how did you prevent the stasis?"

"Dr. Solus developed a suppression method for us." Shepard said. "You'd have to ask him for more details." He waved up toward the direction of the elevator. "But this brings us to your involvement. I want to know how the hell you fought those things." He leaned forward, resting his weight on his arms as he tried to stare down Clark. "You rushed in there, without a weapon and without armor."

"Yeah, I don't care for guns, never had much use for them," Clark said.

His father taught him to shoot at a young age. It had been a great bonding experience, once he managed to get his auditory system under control. But this had been with gunpowder weapons, antiques by any standard. He refused to touch the modern weaponry, and avoided instances where he could hurt anyone with anything, even his words. For someone who first learned to hear heartbeats, listening to silence was gut-wrenching.

"Just how did you manage to fling them across the colony then? Super strength?" Shepard said.

"Well, the simplest answer usually is true, except in cases where a more complex answer offers greater explanatory power."

"Occam's razor," Lawson said. She appeared to accept the statement, though it did anger Shepard more. He wasn't trying to argue with the man, just not give away everything. "How much can you lift?"

"I don't know," Clark said with a shrug. He could lift most of the heavy equipment his father used on the farm by fifteen. Beyond his experience with tractors, he managed to bend and break just about every metal in use, though some too more effort than others. "I think it's more of an application of Newton's laws, rather than just strength, though that could play a part in it. I've never tested it, and will only do so with people I trust. For now, I'm sorry, but that does not include you or your crew."

"So you just expect us to believe you? Take you at your word?" Shepard said. Clark stared at him for a moment, letting his eyes shift to what would be equivalent to x-ray.

"You have three cracked ribs, a fracture in your sternum, likely making it difficult for you to breath. There is another set of fractures in your ulna, your left, not mine. You'll need medical attention for the set of fractures in your right clavicle and thoracic vertebrae." Clark said, cataloging the damage to the commander's upper body. "Officer Lawson, you yourself should receive some attention to the fractures in your femurs, tibias, and fibulas as soon as possible as well." His vision shifted back to normal.

"How?" Ashley asked, before choosing to glare at Shepard. The commander slumped in his seat, looking older at the revelation of his injuries. Lawson remained unperturbed in light of her injury report.

"If we accept that I can do things that you can't, for reasons beyond any of us, then it will just be easier going forward." Clark left out he attributed his powers to a currently unidentified alien species. "Again, any tests down will be done by people I trust, and people I believe can help me figure this all out. I apologize, but Cerberus isn't among those."

"Mister Kent, you were brought to onboard because of your injuries," Lawson said, changing the topic of discussion. Or bringing it back to focus on what had occurred. "A broken ulna pierced your skin and we were unable to field set it."

"Really?" Clark asked. He was surprised as he never broke a bone before or felt like he had, and shifted back to x-ray vision. He glared at his arms, searching for any signs of breaks or fractures. "There is a couple of healing fractures on my right one, but they appear to be months old." Shaking his head, his vision reverted to normal. Those could have come from Freedom's Progress, saving the young girl, but that scenario was unlikely. Advanced healing or a metabolism could explain his stamina. Nothing had ever injured him like that before, so it was an interesting data point. "How did you set it?"

"We required our strongest biotic to assist. Conventional application of pressure failed and we required her assistance," Clark stared at Lawson.

"I'd like to thank her when I get a chance." Lawson shared a look with Shepard before nodding her acquiescence.

"You're a doctor now?" Shepard asked drawing Clark back to the original question.

"No, I lack any formal training," Clark said. "Instead, I read and studied to try and understand myself. Same way anyone does when they have questions. Well, almost anyone."

"You want us to believe that not only do you possess super strength and near invulnerability, you also can see people's bones?" Shepard asked, scoffing at the idea.

"Commander, you know people who manipulate gravity to throw it at someone, to apply various pressures to objects, push and lift them up. Why is it so hard to believe that I can do the things I do?" Clark asked. He and his parents had discussed this at length. Right now, he was laying down the argument he always presented to his father.

"So, what does that leave you as? A human? An alien? What? What are you? Who. Are. You?" Shepard said, almost demanding.

"I. Don't. Know," Clark said, repeating the emphasis Shepard had placed on the words. "I know I was raised on Earth, to two loving parents. I know I can do things others can't."

"You could help us take down the Collectors," Shepard said. There it was. That was what Shepard wanted out of him. Someone else to take up arms and fight alongside him.

"I could, if you weren't with Cerberus," Clark countered. If Shepard was working with just about anyone else, he would have considered the offer. Working for Cerberus was not conducive to his well-being. He would find some other way to help and Ashley already seemed willing to assist fighting the Collectors as well.

"Why does everyone keep saying that!" Shepard said. He pounded his fists upon table, causing Ashley and Lawson to jump.

"Because it's true. You know this and understand it, but you hate yourself for it." Clark said. "But you are going to do it anyway, because it's the right thing. Right reasons, wrong support. Stop me if I'm wrong." Shepard responded with silence, glaring at him. "I believe you. The Collectors exist. So, the question that really needs to be answer is what are we going to do about it?"


End file.
